


These Days

by S1riusblack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 14:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18075326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S1riusblack/pseuds/S1riusblack
Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange thought that she constructed a foolproof plan in making Andromeda Tonks pay. Kidnapping her twin daughters seemed like the perfect way to do so. But things didn’t pan out the way Bellatrix hoped, leaving one Tonks daughter in the care of her rightful parents and the other to eventually be raised by Narcissa Malfoy. Bellatrix was convinced the girl would one day become a weapon. But there were two flaws in this plan. One, Narcissa raised her niece with love. Two, she allowed her to attend Hogwarts. The story of Magnolia Tonks, twin sister of Nymphadora Tonks, and her struggles and triumphs with identity, family, friendship and love.





	1. Prologue

**Part I**   
**June 1973**

  
Bellatrix walked up a long driveway, her black curls bobbing, wand clutched tightly in her hand. Her pouted lips curved into a smile, her dark eyes gleaming. It had taken days – no, weeks – for the day that the plan would work to come along. Finally, finally her burning desire for revenge would be satisfied. Now that her sister was gone for an Order meeting, only Ted Tonks stood in the way of her and victory. But he was a trivial matter. A mere obstacle. With a wave of her wand, he could be eliminated. How she longed to cause Andromeda that sort of pain.  
  
Bellatrix knew that she couldn’t kill Andromeda – not only because of her prestigious skill – but also for the fact that Andromeda was her sister. No matter how hard she thought about it, she knew that all attempts would be futile; Bellatrix’s nerve would fail her. The plan in place was a perfect way for Andromeda Tonks to suffer for her mistakes, pain that would be even harder to endure than death.  
  
Love. Bellatrix delicately snorted at the word. The eldest Black sister wasn’t stupid; she knew that Andromeda loved dearly and deeply. To love is to destroy, Bellatrix thought to herself. It was a phrase that her mother had taught her when she was little. But she would never know the full meaning until it was too late.

Her mother. Druella Black. This was for her, not for the Dark Lord, and maybe partially for herself. Andromeda made a mistake in marrying that mudblood Ted Tonks. A mistake that tore her mother – and Bellatrix knew deep down, herself – into fragments. But no matter, no matter. The middle Black sister was about to understand.  
  
The gate was locked, and charms were cast around the property. Idiots, she thought to herself, a wicked smirk crossing her attractive features, making her brown eyes glow in the dusk light. She muttered a simple spell, and all of the protective charms dissolved in a shimmery light. It was easier than Bellatrix expected it to be.  
  
Stepping lightly, she made her way up the stairs. A crow cawed, and Bellatrix looked up. It was an animagus, by the name of Rodolphus Lestrange. Her husband and guard. If any Order members came – which was unlikely – he would signal it.  
  
“Alohomora,” she whispered, and the door opened. Again, she contemplated on how naive her sister and husband were for thinking that the charms would be enough. Of course, Andromeda was far too noble to use stronger dark magic to protect her family, Bellatrix mused.  
  
Walking to their bedroom was simple, as Ted was fast asleep in the hammock on the balcony; he was all the way on the other side of the house. When Bellatrix reached the bedroom, she cast her eyes upon the sleeping twins that lay in the cot. One of them had vivid pink hair; the other had green hair. Hmmm, Metamorphmagi. That could prove useful. All she could see in the twins was Ted. It was only when the green haired girl opened her eyes that she could see her sister, Andromeda.  
  
The twins’ names were Nymphadora and Magnolia. Bellatrix rolled her eyes. Even as children, Andromeda said that she would call her children those particular names. Horrible names.  
  
Bellatrix stopped thinking about the past and focused on the task at hand. She scooped the two infants in her arms, not knowing how to hold them and doing so roughly. The pink-haired twin opened her eyes and looked up at Bellatrix, who had a vague idea of what she had to do.  
  
“Hello, darling. It’s Auntie Bella, and we’re going on an adventure!”  
  
To Bellatrix’s dismay, the pink-haired baby started wailing. Frantically, she tried to console her.  
  
“Shut it, brat!” she hissed, as she heard Ted’s footsteps. Quickly, she turned on the spot as if to disapparate, but froze.

Ted was standing, also frozen, in the doorway. Upon seeing his sister-in-law holding his twin girls, he yelled and launched himself into the room. Bellatrix stopped in the middle of what she was doing as Ted’s fingers wrapped around her neck. Panicking, Bellatrix dropped the pink-haired girl and, being taller and stronger than Ted, managed to shake him off. In a rush, she cast a spell on the pink-haired infant. Deep cuts appeared all over her tiny body, her white clothing turned red in the blink of an eye.  
  
Bellatrix ran with the green-haired baby in her arms, knowing that Ted was at a stalemate: he could go after Bellatrix, but then his other daughter would bleed to death. In terrible anguish, Ted chose to save Nymphadora, thus leaving Magnolia in the grasp of Bellatrix Lestrange.  
  
Bellatrix fled, having discovered that disapparating in the Tonks’ household was impossible. When she found a spot where she could disapparate, she did so, rematerializing in the hiding place of the Dark Lord.  
  
Suffice to say, Lord Voldemort was far from pleased with Bellatrix’ actions in kidnapping the baby. He had known of Bellatrix’s plans, but he had forbade her from putting her them into action whilst Andromeda and Ted were home. In other words, he forbade her from following through with her plan, because no parents would leave two infants alone in their house during a war. But there was more to his displeasure than just that. Ted had certainly caught more than just a glimpse of the Dark Lord’s best lieutenant, thus the Order would target her. But Bellatrix, in an uncharacteristic turn, didn’t care what the Dark Lord thought. She had her reasons which she considered just as important as following her master’s orders. Members of the Order had killed her mother. Druella Black had taught Bellatrix pureblood supremacy and raised her to be a strong, ambitious woman. There were few Bellatrix loved, and her mother was amongst that few. Making her traitorous daughter – Andromeda – pay seemed like the perfect way to live up to her mother’s memory. Nothing destroyed their family like Andromeda did. Nothing.  
  
Bellatrix had a plan, which could not be put into effect until her youngest sister, Narcissa, graduated from Hogwarts in a year’s time. For the next year, Magnolia Tonks’ carer was the most infamous of Death Eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange. ‘Carer’ was a loose term, which Bellatrix was certainly not worthy to hold. It was a nuisance looking after an infant, because Bellatrix had to be more careful than ever, since the Order were targeting her. She already had a brutal run in with her cousin Sirius Black and an Auror and did not need more whilst the child was in her care.  
  
When Narcissa graduated, Bellatrix used her plentiful powers of persuasion to convince her sister to look after Andromeda’s daughter. Bellatrix didn’t want Magnolia to die, for there would be a day when she was older that she would become useful. She would become a weapon. How was something even Bellatrix wasn’t sure of yet. It all depended on the woman Magnolia grew to be.  
  
Now, there were two flaws in Bellatrix’s plan. The first was that Narcissa wasn’t like her. Andromeda and Narcissa were close as children. When their mother would lecture Bellatrix on their family’s history and the importance of pure blood, Narcissa and Andromeda would be each other’s playmates, too young to fully understand such concepts. As they aged, they were still very close, until Andromeda started to venture off into more rebellious waters. Narcissa wanted to please her parents. They were essentially different. They went their own ways, but remained in contact. Narcissa always idolised her big sister Andy. Narcissa refused to raise her niece with the sort of cruelty Bellatrix wanted her to instil. She would treat the child with the love and respect that she deserved. It was how Andromeda would have wanted it. However, the youngest Black sister was too scared to disobey Bellatrix completely and return the baby to Andromeda. All she hoped for was a day when the war was over, and she could safely give the child back to her mother.  
  
It seemed that when Harry Potter conquered the Dark Lord, that day had finally come - the day that Narcissa could give the child back to her rightful mother.  
But Narcissa was too scared to tell Andromeda the truth, for Bellatrix would break out of Azkaban one day, and the Dark Lord would return. Narcissa had an infant son, whom she fiercely loved. Her family would be in danger if she betrayed Bellatrix or disobeyed her wishes – no, more like orders. So Narcissa and her husband, Lucius Malfoy, acted as if Magnolia was their own child. They raised her as a pureblood should be raised. It was what was expected of them, if she was to become a weapon and a Death Eater one day. The only problem was that Narcissa came to love Magnolia, as if she was really her own. It wasn’t just for show. It would make things harder for her down the track.  
  
Andromeda searched for her child for years after Bellatrix had been imprisoned in Azkaban. No one had ever seen Magnolia, and if they had, it wasn’t since she was under the care of her parents, when she was a mere infant. Andromeda even approached Narcissa, who insisted she had no idea where her niece could be.  
  
Bellatrix’s second flaw became clear when Nymphadora Tonks turned eleven and was due to start at Hogwarts. Andromeda could feel that something was going to change. The feeling of emptiness was becoming a feeling of hopefulness. There was a chance, however small, that Magnolia was alive. And if that small chance was true, there was an even bigger chance that whoever was looking after her would send her to Hogwarts.  
  
It was the sort of hopefulness that nothing, not even common sense, could dissuade. It was the desperate sort of hopefulness that comes with a last chance. It was ironic that Hogwarts was bringing that sort of hope, considering that the school had also been Andromeda’s source of hope when, as a young girl, she yearned to escape her parents’ tyranny and pureblood-supreme ways.  
  
Hope was the only thing stronger than fear; the fear that her desire for the safe return of her daughter would not come to fruition.


	2. Walking Mirrors

Maggie sat in front of a large mirror that was mounted on a fancy duchess. Narcissa stood behind her, brushing her brown hair before styling it in a braid that stopped in the middle of her back. Maggie studied her eleven-year-old reflection once her Aunt – affectionately known as Aunt Cissy – was finished. She wasn’t using her metamorphmagus abilities, so her appearance was close to natural: lips that had a natural pout to them, brown eyes and high cheekbones that complemented her heart shaped face. 

“Magnolia,” Narcissa said softly, and Maggie subtly crinkled her nose at the use of her full name. “Please behave at Hogwarts.” She slid a bobby pin into her hair to keep it in place, and Maggie flinched; not at the movement but at her Aunt’s words. “I know there’s a thrill to starting trouble, but you’re there to learn. Don’t forget that.”  
  
Maggie looked as though she was trying very hard not to roll her eyes. She gave Narcissa a small smile and nodded. Maggie didn’t understand why her Aunt thought she’d start trouble – yes, there were incidents where Maggie _had_ started trouble, but this type of trouble usually involved her metamorphmagus abilities and her Aunt Cissy and Uncle Lucius’s dislike of them. She didn’t think there would be any issue with altering her natural appearance at Hogwarts to something she felt more herself in – like a shock of green hair, perhaps.  
  
“I won’t, I promise. I’m most excited for my classes, especially Transfiguration. You needn’t worry about me getting into trouble,” Maggie answered, giving her Aunt a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Narcissa seemed satisfied with her answer. As Maggie looked around her room for any items she may have forgotten to pack, Narcissa busied herself with smoothing out the black velvet sheets on her niece’s bed, a small worry frown evident between her eyes but her face expressionless aside from that.  
  
Maggie picked up her wand, admiring it before she stowed it away in her trunk. It was mahogany, eleven inches with a dragon heartstring core. Going to Hogwarts had been a dream of Maggie’s since she was seven, when Narcissa started sharing tales of her Hogwarts days. Her Aunt was controlled in what she told Maggie, but did let slip a few stories of late night adventures to raid the kitchens before roaming the grounds with a few friends as they nibbled on treats. Narcissa always emphasised the importance of education at Hogwarts, which Maggie also considered her education important, but more than anything, she was looking forward to finding a good group of friends that she could have her own adventures with. Maggie had asked Narcissa what her parents were like at Hogwarts, which Narcissa only vaguely answered. Whilst it frustrated Maggie that she knew little of her parents, who died when she was an infant, she understood why it would be hard for Narcissa to speak about them.  
  
Whilst Maggie did wonder about her parents a lot, she was content with the family she had. Narcissa was kind toward Maggie and cared for her deeply, but was a closed off person. This both frustrated and upset Maggie. She knew Narcissa loved her, though, even if she was distant in the way she showed it. Maggie understood, even at eleven, that there are reasons people are the way they are. Her Uncle Lucius was far less loving than Narcissa was. He was cold and proper, and never seemed to accept Maggie the way he did his son, Draco. Draco was four years old and was like a younger brother to Maggie. She adored him more than anyone else in the world. For four years old he was bright and showed more of his personality and love toward Maggie than Narcissa and Lucius combined. The manor would be a very morose place if it weren’t for her blonde-haired, chubby-cheeked little cousin.  
  
Narcissa stood at the door, patiently waiting for Maggie, who had placed her wand inside her trunk and was looking around her bedroom one last time. When Maggie was finally certain she hadn’t missed anything, she nodded at her Aunt who pointed her wand at the trunk and levitated it. Narcissa watched Maggie with an expression of great worry and sadness, with perhaps a tad of resignation. She stopped her niece before she walked out and placed a hand on her cheek, looking at her young features as if trying to memorise them.  
  
“You’ve grown up so much,” she whispered, stroking Maggie’s cheek. Maggie squirmed, a little uncomfortable, but also pleased. The two made their way down the winding staircase. The decorum in Malfoy Manor had one general theme, which was the colour black. The staircase was made of polished black marble, the carpet was made of a soft, fluffy black material and the furniture in the living room wasn’t black, but made of a dark wood that was so dark it may as well have been black. Black, black, black, just like her last name, which was her mother and Narcissa’s maiden name. Maggie couldn’t wait to escape the darkness, and hoped that Hogwarts was at least a bit more colourful.  
  
“Maggie!” a small voice yelled. Maggie grinned and kneeled as Draco ran towards her. She noticed that he looked sulky, and she knew why. Yesterday, he had a tantrum over her leaving for Hogwarts. Narcissa tried her best to calm him down, but in the end Lucius couldn’t withstand his child’s screams and put his foot down, saying that Draco wouldn’t be able to come to Kings Cross station to see Maggie off with such poor behaviour. He was to stay at the Manor and Dobby the house elf would look after him. Maggie couldn’t help but dislike her Uncle for that. He didn’t understand that whilst he might not see Maggie as his family, Draco saw her as a sister. It wasn’t fair on either of them that their goodbye was to be so brief.  
  
“Hey, Draco,” Maggie said softly, reaching her hand up and stroking some blond strands of hair off his forehead. “I’m going to miss you heaps. I promise I’ll write.” She truly felt sad as she looked at Draco, his grey eyes watery and lips puckered into a pout. She didn’t know what he’d do when she was gone. She hoped that her Aunt would race him in the ginormous backyard of Malfoy Manor, build snowmen with him in the winter, read him books when he was cranky, listen to him talk about all the things he wanted to do when he learned magic, talk him out of his tantrums with kind words and hugs, comfort him when he had nightmares; she hoped Narcissa would do all the things she wouldn’t be there to do.   
  
“I’ll miss you too,” he whined, tears threatening to escape onto his pale cheeks. He rubbed his eyes quickly. “I want to know all about Hogwarts.”  
  
“I’ll write you a novel-worthy letter about it,” she assured, giving his hair a ruffle and holding her arms out for him. As she hugged him, she reflected on how lonely she was before Draco was born. She only had books to keep her company – thankfully, Narcissa had shown her niece her personal library, full of wizarding and muggle literature alike. Draco didn’t seem to have the same affinity with books. Again, Maggie hoped her Aunt would fill in her boots whilst she was at Hogwarts. She couldn’t imagine how lonely Draco would be or how he’d spend his days.  
  
“Come, Draco,” Lucius said. “Your mother will bring you to Dobby’s quarters whilst I speak to Magnolia.”  
  
Maggie reluctantly let Draco go, who seemed equally reluctant. If it weren’t for his father’s outburst yesterday, Maggie knew he’d be in tears. But Lucius was good at sedating Draco’s tendencies to show emotions, something Maggie noted and didn’t think was right. As she watched Draco’s retreating figure, she felt like crying. There was an ache in her chest that even the thought of Hogwarts couldn’t take away. Every day of her life for the past four years had been spent with Draco. She couldn’t imagine it any other way.  
  
“Magnolia,” Lucius began, and Maggie turned her head away from the marble staircase.  
  
“Yes, Uncle Lucius?” she replied politely.  
  
“Are you excited for Hogwarts?” he questioned, his grey eyes identical to Draco’s except for the fact they were cold.  
  
“Of course. I have been waiting for this day for years.”  
  
Lucius nodded, looking as though he didn’t really care for what his niece was saying. “I’m sure you have. Slytherin will welcome you with open arms.”  
  
Maggie now knew the purpose of this conversation. Lucius didn’t like to be outwardly confrontational. Instead, he conveyed his threats through seemingly innocuous statements. Maggie knew what this one meant. She must be sorted into Slytherin, or suffer his displeasure.  
  
“I hope so,” Maggie said evenly, doing her best to sound nonchalant. Lucius nodded at her and pat her on the shoulder, looking marginally less cold and mean than before.  
  
“Make sure to keep your studies up. That is what is most important.”  
  
Maggie nodded at him. It was more of a demand than a statement.

* * *

 

The drive to Kings Cross station didn’t take long. Maggie spent the drive looking out of the window in interest at the muggle world. It seemed much more modern than the wizarding world, albeit a bit tacky. In the rear view mirror she could see her Uncle’s disgusted expression at the street they were driving down, which was bustling with muggles in all sorts of get ups; neon nylon skirts and leopard print jackets and colourful pants. That was something Maggie didn’t understand about Lucius, and to a lesser extent, Narcissa. They believed muggles were dirty creatures who wanted nothing more than to persecute witches and wizards and steal their magic. But Maggie, being an avid reader, had not come across any recent examples of this. She felt sorry for muggles, not knowing the truth about the world they lived in.  
  
Maggie’s interest in her surroundings increased as they pulled into the car park at Kings Cross station. She stepped out of the car and went to grab her trunk, after declining Lucius’s offer to carry it. Her Aunt and Uncle looked quite disgusted as they looked around at their surroundings, mingled with… fear perhaps? Maggie couldn’t see a reason why they would be fearful. Lucius set off at a very fast pace towards the station, but Narcissa stayed in line with Maggie.  
  
The station was even more packed than the car park was. Maggie could easily spot which people in the crowd were wizards either by their fascinated expressions at muggle train ticket machines, the owls they had in cages or out of place attire. Maggie was confused, because she spotted a sign that said platform nine and platform ten, but not nine and three quarters.  
  
“We run through this barrier,” Narcissa whispered in Maggie’s ear as she threw a distasteful look at the muggle family walking past the wall between platform nine and ten. “It won’t hurt.”  
  
Marvelling in the clever ways in which magic was concealed from muggles, Maggie set off at a quick pace toward the wall. At the last moment she worried she’d crash. But of course, she didn’t. Narcissa and Lucius came quickly after her. Maggie stared in awe at platform nine and three quarters. She had never been surrounded by so many witches and wizards, apart from the few balls she had attended with her Aunt and Uncle. She had definitely never been around this many witches and wizards her own age. Her chest swelled with an excitement she couldn’t contain at the thought of what the train ride and Hogwarts entailed. A huge grin unfurled on Maggie's features and she turned to her Aunt and Uncle, to beckon them to follow her, but stopped short; they were standing close to the entrance back to the muggle world and looking around fearfully. Maggie didn’t understand why, but she did understand that Narcissa and Lucius weren’t staying to wave her off as she boarded the Hogwarts Express. Her grin faltered a fraction.  
  
“Have a good time this year, Magnolia,” Narcissa said, giving Maggie a hug so tight she thought her bones might break. That was quite unusual for Narcissa, but Maggie happily returned the hug. When she pulled away, for the first time in Maggie’s life, she saw tears in Narcissa’s eyes. But with a blink, they were gone.  
  
Lucius nodded at Maggie, unsmiling and cold, but Maggie didn’t care for her Aunt’s goodbye more than sufficed. She smiled and waved at her Aunt and Uncle one last time before they disappeared through the barrier in a hurry. Maggie was hardly disconcerted by their brief departure. She turned towards the scarlet steam engine, her huge grin returned to her face as she made her way towards it, excitement bubbling in her chest. She boarded the train three minutes before its departure at eleven.  
  
Maggie looked around for an empty compartment as she didn’t know how to approach people her own age. She didn’t mind being alone, though. It left her with thoughts she didn’t feel comfortable having in Malfoy Manor.  
  
Maggie didn’t want to be in Slytherin. Whilst her Aunt and Uncle were Slytherins and not bad people, she knew the houses dark reputation through books in Narcissa’s library. It wasn’t just that, though. Maggie didn’t believe she pertained the qualities that Slytherin house valued: cunning, ambition and resourcefulness. She could see these traits in her Aunt and Uncle and didn’t identify with them. She always felt different in her family, but Maggie thought that was to be expected seeing as they aren’t her parents.  
  
Maggie’s train of thought was broken by two laughing, cheerful sounding voices outside her apartment. A pink-haired girl stood with her back turned to Maggie, talking to a ginger-haired by who was facing Maggie but hadn’t spotted her yet.  
  
“Charles! How are you, Charles!” the pink-haired girl cried, laughing at Charlie’s irritated expression.  
  
“It's Charlie, _Nymphadora_!”  
  
She gasped and slapped him on the arm playfully. “No one calls me Nymphadora. Dora isn’t much better but I’ll settle for that.”  
  
Maggie made unexpected eye contact with Charlie. His eyes widened and he tapped Dora on the shoulder, who turned around to look at Maggie, who suddenly felt very self-conscious.  
  
Maggie and Dora’s jaws both dropped identically as they looked at each other. Maggie felt unnerved. This girl looked just like her! Every feature; the heart shaped face, the brown eyes, the cheekbones, the nose, the mouth and even her body shape was completely identical to hers. The only difference was the hair colour; Maggie’s was brown and Dora’s was pink.  
  
“Dora, I think you’ve found a walking mirror,” Charlie said, laughing but looking just as unnerved as Maggie felt. Dora cracked a smile at Charlie’s comment. She stepped forward so that she was in the doorway of Maggie’s compartment and Charlie followed suit.  
  
Maggie had been so shocked by the presence of a girl who looked just like her that she hadn’t given much attention to Charlie. She thought he looked pleasant. He had a light smattering of freckles across his nose, messy ginger hair and clear blue eyes that reminded her of the sunny days that so rarely occurred in England. Her attention on Charlie waned quickly, however, and focused back on Dora as she spoke in a voice that was quite similar to Maggie’s.  
  
“What’s your name?” she asked curiously.  
  
“Magnolia. You?”  
  
“Nymphadora, but please, call me Dora,” she said, rolling her eyes.  
  
“Don’t you like your name?” Maggie asked.  
  
“Nah. What sort of mother calls their kid Nymphadora? She insists that it’s a beautiful name,” she said, rolling her eyes.  
  
Maggie chuckled. She could appreciate Dora’s hatred for her name. “I hate my name too. You can call me Maggie, if you’d like.”  
  
Dora and Charlie smiled and properly stepped into Maggie’s compartment. Maggie felt quite comfortable with these two, but still felt very odd about her and Dora’s identical appearance.  
  
“I’m Charlie Weasley. Formally Charles, as you may have heard,” he said, grinning at Dora. “What’s your surname, Maggie?”  
  
“Black,” she replied  
  
“Like Sirius Black?” Dora asked. Maggie shrugged; she had never heard the name.  
  
“What about you?” Maggie questioned.  
  
“Tonks,” she replied. She was staring at Maggie just as intently as Maggie was staring at her. For some reason, Maggie felt strange in her stomach. Years ago, she read a book on the theory everyone has around seven doppelgangers. But this was just too surreal. This girl was her age, and identical to the last degree. Maggie eyed off her pink hair, an idea formulating in her mind.  
  
“I like your hair,” she said in an offhand manner. Hopefully, Dora had just dyed her hair pink. It would be way too weird if she was like Maggie…  
  
“Thanks! I’m a metamorphmagus.”  
  
Maggie’s heart leapt to her throat. Metamorphmagi, as well as doppelgangers, are so rare that Maggie’s head began to hurt thinking of all the possibilities.  
  
“So am I,” she replied, avoiding looking at Dora or Charlie.

“No way you look just like me _and_ are a metamorphmagus,” Dora said incredulously. Maggie gave her a blank look and watched as Dora’s incredulous expression change to one of shock as Maggie’s brown hair turned a neon green.  
  
“Are you two long lost twins or something?” Charlie joked, looking between the two in surprise. The thought occurred to Maggie for a moment, but common sensed doused it. They had different last names, and Dora spoke about her mother as if she was alive, and Maggie’s parents had died before she could even remember them.  
  
After the disconcerting introductions, Maggie, Dora and Charlie fell into easy conversation. Despite never interacting with people her own age, Maggie found it easy with Charlie and Dora. Especially Dora. Maggie couldn’t explain it, but she felt as though she had some sort of sixth sense when it came to Dora. She knew when she was going to laugh and what expressions she was going to make. She saw when a conversation topic irritated Dora and when one excited her, before she outwardly expressed it. Maggie had never felt so confused about anything in her life. Usually, she’d traipse down the winding marble staircase to Narcissa’s library and research until she found answers. But she wasn’t at Malfoy Manor now, and somehow, she didn’t think she’d find any answers in books.  
  
“I want to be in Gryffindor,” Charlie said, once the conversation topic veered from family life to Hogwarts. “My whole family have been. My older brother, Bill, is in his fourth year. I’m the second in my family to come to Hogwarts. What about you, Maggie?”  
  
“Hm?” Maggie said, caught off guard by the question. “Oh, right. I don’t know what houses my parents were in. But my Aunt and Uncle were in Slytherin and want me to be as well. But I wouldn’t mind Gryffindor…” she realised how displeased her family would be with her words. Gryffindor was the rival house of Slytherin. But Maggie didn’t care what house she was in, as long as it wasn’t Slytherin and she could stay with Dora or Charlie.  
  
“What about you, Dora?” Charlie asked.  
  
“My Mum was a Slytherin. My Dad was a Hufflepuff. I want to be in Hufflepuff too, though I suppose Gryffindor wouldn’t be that bad.”  
  
“Gryffindor is the best!” Charlie argued. “Look at all the great wizards that were Gryffindors…”  
  
Maggie zoned out of the conversation and stared out of the window. The train was going fast so Maggie’s eyes couldn’t properly focus, but she noticed the greenery becoming wilder and less tamed. She assumed that they had reached Scotland, or were nearing it.  
  
Maggie had an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t a nervous or foreboding feeling. It was a feeling that was quite foreign to Maggie; she couldn’t place a finger on what it might be. But it wasn’t a bad feeling. She was excited to reach Hogwarts with her new friends, although she still had the strangest feeling about Dora Tonks.

**Author's Note:**

> So I originally posted this on fanfiction.net (same username) and am still updating new chapters on there. However I’ve decided to post on here as I’m rewriting the story so it is in third person and just generally fixing things up (I started writing this when I was twelve and I think I have improved since then). Let me know what you think


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